Disclaimer: not mine, Bellisario's

Baby at all costs?

Set a year after the baby deal

Part 1

It was chilly. Correction, it was downright cold. And it certainly was not Mac's favourite job to stand at an open grave. Let alone the grave of a child. Still it was her job. It was the end, or at least the end of the preliminary investigation. The child, a little boy was found dead next to a navy base and the Admiral had assigned Harm and Mac to the task of finding out what had happened to the little John Doe.
Mac looked aside. Harm was standing next to her, sporting, as she was sure, an identical grim expression on his face as she had. The priest invited them to pray and they bowed their heads, listening to the words of the Lord's Prayer.
After that they walked to their cars. Mac was getting a ride from Harriet. She would have loved to ride with Harm but he had places to go to. Neither Harriet nor Mac were very talkative, still deeply impressed by the funeral. Finally Harriet started to talk. "I sure hope you will find out who that little boy was. And who has done this to him. Do you have any leads already?"
Mac shook her head sadly. "Not much. Bud is still searching databases for the comparison of DNA but until now no luck. Nobody has heard or seen anything. The cloths he was wearing you can buy in any shop and were well worn, so probably the mother had them a long time or bought them second hand or someone gave them to her. Either way we can't determine where they came from."
Harriet sighed. "I'll never able to understand how a mother can leave her kid like this." She laid a protecting hand on her own belly. Mac looked surprised and raised a brown. Harriet blushed and nodded. "Yes, Bud and I are expecting again. But don't tell. We've only known it for a few days ourselves and want to wait a little longer before announcing."
Mac nodded. "I won't," she promise.
When she was home Mac flopped down on the couch. It had been such an emotional day. In her mind she relived the events of the day. The dead little boy, versus Harriet being pregnant again a year after she had given birth to little AJ. They would celebrate his birthday the next Saturday and both Harm and she, being his godparents, would be there. Suddenly she was a year back in time, standing outside the office and looking at the ambulance and she heard herself say "My biological clock is going off and I keep hitting the snooze button." She felt her stomach contract. She didn't want to wait another four years. She too wanted a baby. Now!
She sighed. Harm still had four years to make good on his promise. If he had meant it in the first place. Which she doubted. It was a pretty strong thing to decide in the blink of an eye. It probable had been a whim, best forgotten as soon as possible. Harm was prone to be impulsive. The ceiling of the courtroom still bore the evidence of that.
And why would he choose her to be the mother of his child? Even though she was his best friend. Or so she flattered herself to be. Friend being the key-word here. Friend, not date, not girlfriend. Or lover. Or even more: fiancé of spouse. Again a deep sigh. She was not his type, which was blonde and long legged. And not too many brains.
There was yet another reason he probably didn't find her suitable, let alone worthy. Her past. Being an alcoholic, coming from a family of alcoholism and abuse. No, she'd better forget his badly considered proposal.
But still she wanted a baby!

The next day she set her plan in motion. First she spent several hours behind the computer checking out addresses. The next thing was to write for information. Days later the letters came in: two from Washington, three from New York and one from somewhere in Pennsylvania. In the mean time she had written down questions she wanted to be answered. She spent a weekend plotting out all conditions and the answers to her questions in a spreadsheet, marking the ones she liked best with colours. That week she sat behind her computer again and searched for reviews, copying them in her research file as well.
After reviewing all the information she collected she picked the two firms she liked the best and started to fill in the paperwork.

Wednesday evening
Mac's apartment
There was a knock on the door and Mac looked up, surprised. She didn't expect anyone.
It was Harm, carrying a small box.
"Hi, I was in the neighbourhood." He smiled. "I brought chocolate mousse cake."
Mac smiled. "I'll make coffee."
In the mean time Harm wandered through the apartment. He saw the stack of paperwork on the desk, Mac had been busy with.
"What are you working on?" It was just a causal question, one they had asked each other a million times. But it was the last one Mac wanted to answer now. Harm looked at her, a bit bewildered by not getting an answer. Then he picked up the papers and scanned them. She saw his eyes narrow, his shoulders stiffen and his features set. She held her breath.
Slowly he lowered the papers and looked at her. His eyes were dark blue pools in a pale face. "You are looking for a sperm donor? I thought we had a deal. But if this is what you want, right!"
He threw the papers back on the desk, turned on his heels and left without another word, the door slamming behind him. The cake stood forgotten on the table. Mac hid her face in her hands. What had she done?

The next morning
Mac was sitting in her office, feeling miserable. He hardly had said anything to her that morning and as soon as they had arrived at the office he had disappeared into his room. She tried to concentrate on the files lying in front of her but in vain. It was she was waiting for the sword to drop.
There was a rap on the door and when she looked up it was the man she now dreaded to see the most. Harm wasted no time in asking to be seated.
"I spoke to the Admiral this morning. There is a TAD in King's Bay and I volunteered. I have to report 8.00 Monday morning so I'll leave on Sunday."
Mac had to all she could to stay calm. Not trusting her voice she only nodded.
Harm rose. "I wanted to tell you myself. The Admiral will announce it during staff meeting." He walked to the door. At the doorstep he turned. "When I am back, we will talk." And with that he was gone.